Good Cop, Bad Cop
by Arigol
Summary: Starsky and Hutch clash with a bigoted detective.Note: This story is set prepilot.  It takes place after 'Family Ties' and refers to incidents in 'Chameleon' and 'Death By Starlight'.


Good Cop/Bad Cop.

It had been a long night and their shift was almost at an end. Their good cop/bad cop routine with the suspect in the Zalinski case, had finally paid off and had resulted in an arrest. Starsky was ready to go home, and stretching his arms above his head, he eased out the kinks in his shoulder then yawned. He needed sleep; something he'd had precious little of in the last week.

"It's too bad Helen's on days," Hutch commented with a smirk.

Starsky grimaced. It wasn't easy when their shifts didn't coincide but they had managed to find some time to spend together. Not enough though. "Only three more nights then we're back on days. We'll make up for lost time." He waggled his eyebrows.

Hutch laughed. "I'll bet. C'mon partner, let's get out of here."

"Yeah." Starsky smiled as he recalled the last time he and Helen had made love. Just thinking about it made him horny.

"Starsky," Hutch interrupted his thoughts. "I know what's going on in that dirty mind of yours."

"Oh yeah!" Starsky exclaimed, looking up at him with an impish grin. "Since when did you become a voyager?"

Hutch burst out laughing. "A voyeur, Starsky."

"Whatever."

"C'mon, mushbrain, let's go."

Starsky nodded, letting the friendly insult pass, just glad to be leaving the small interrogation room at last. "So we gonna eat?" he asked as they walked out the door and into the hallway.

"Sleep is more important than food right now, Starsk," Hutch commented before yawning. "I can never adjust to nights."

Starsky sympathised. He disliked nights too but it was part of the job. "Aw, c'mon, you oughta be used to it by now," he teased.

"Yeah, yeah, I…" Hutch's words were lost as a door they were passing crashed open.

Obviously unaware of them, rookie Detective Mark O'Brien, slammed back against Hutch, shouting. "You're goin' too far, Morton! I ain't having no…"

"Hey!" Hutch grabbed the man's arms. "What's going on?"

The shocked and guilty look on' O'Brien's face spoke volumes to Starsky so he pushed his way into the interrogation room to see Detective Morton, standing over a cowering, moaning man on the ground. Acting instinctively, Starsky dragged him away from his victim and shoved him against the wall. Morton struggled, his eyes blazing as he recognised who held him.

"What the hell d'you think you're doing?" Starsky demanded.

"It's none of your friggin' business," Morton snarled, as he struggled to break Starsky's hold. "Keep outta my case!"

As Starsky increased the pressure he could feel the fury radiating from the other man. He didn't let it bother him and glanced at his partner, who now knelt by the prone man. "Hutch, he okay?" His friend's medical training was a skill that Starsky had been grateful for in the past.

"Hutch," Starsky repeated, as he maintained his grip on Morton.

"Let him go, Starsky, "O'Brien said, behind him.

"Only if he calms down or you can control him, " Starsky said through gritted teeth.

"Starsk," Hutch's tone was urgent.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"It's Tony Vincente."

Starsky met Hutch's eyes, then looked down at the man. Tony Vincente had become a friend earlier that year, when the partners had been undercover at the Starlight Disco. After Starsky had been kidnapped Tony's help had been vital to Hutch finding him before a ruthless drug dealer killed him. They owed Tony a debt.

"How bad?"

"He's taken a severe beating. He may have internal injuries too. He needs a doctor." Hutch pressed the man's shoulder. "Take it easy, Tony. It's going to be okay."

"O'Brien, if Doc McGrath is in the building then get him here now," Starsky ordered. "Call Dobey too."

The younger cop, who had been hovering close to Hutch and Tony jumped at the tone and picked up the wall phone. As he did, Morton again tried to free himself. Obviously underestimating Starsky's strength, and as he realised he couldn't move, a stream of profanity spewed from his mouth.

"Shut up, moron, " Starsky snapped as intimidation practices he used on the street came into play. "You've gotten too rough with a suspect. That means you're in a lotta trouble."

"That fag killed a guy," Morton spat. "I was only trying to restrain him when he resisted arrest."

"Bullshit! So you're judge and jury now? You got proof? You got a confession?" Starsky moved closer into the man's personal space and Morton flinched, sweat breaking out on his forehead. "Were you trying to beat it out of him?"

He looked over to see Hutch taking off his jacket, placing it under Tony's head, and talking quietly to him. "How's he doin' Hutch?"

"Not good. He's in a lot of pain."

"Doctor's on his way," O'Brien informed them.

"Good. Now I'm gonna let Morton go. You keep him in line." Starsky wasn't holding out much hope of that but he couldn't remain like this forever. Of the two, O'Brien was the younger, a rookie assigned to Morton as a temporary partner. No one wanted to work with the domineering older cop any more and for good reason as Hutch had found to his cost.

O'Brien cleared his throat. "I'll try."

Starsky released his hold enough to drag Morton towards a chair and shove him down. "Okay asshole, don't move, you hear me?"

"Who'd you freakin' think you are, Starsky?" Morton yelled, his face turning almost purple with rage.

"I'm the man who'll take you down if you leave this chair. Got it?" Starsky towered over him threateningly. He was not going to give the bully any chance to leave. They had a history with Morton, a man who had been Hutch's temporary partner last year whilst Starsky recovered from a gunshot wound. Both he and Hutch detested the man for his bigotry and arrogance.

"Alex, do as he says," O'Brien tried. "You gotta be calm. I.A. are gonna be all over this."

"I'm not gonna do any frigging thing **he** says," Morton snapped.

"Yes you are, because I outrank you, Detective Third Class Morton," Starsky warned in a low and dangerous tone. "Now stay there and shut up or else I'll cuff you."

Morton's eyes were full of hate. "Why you…"

"Think carefully about what you're gonna say," Starsky warned, his voice turning to ice. "Cause if you make any racial slurs I'm not gonna be responsible for my actions."

Morton's mouth opened and closed several times before he looked down in defeat. Starsky smiled a little before looking at an open-mouthed O'Brien who stood nearby. The man swallowed and backed away. Convinced O'Brien was incapable of controlling his partner Starsky elected, for the moment, to remain in Morton's personal space.

Tony's groans increased in volume and Starsky sympathised with him. He was a nice guy, if a bit brash, and Starsky had grown to like him. Although Tony's open infatuation with him had caused some concern; he had backed off when asked.

Watching as Hutch tried to soothe the man Starsky thought, not for the first time, that the medical profession had lost out big time when Hutch had decided it wasn't for him.

A few tense minutes later, the doctor, accompanied by Captain Dobey and Lt. Fargo of I.A., arrived. Fargo took in the scene at a glance whilst the doctor knelt down to examine his patient. Starsky, like most cops, held no love for I.A. but Fargo was a decent guy and, unlike many of his colleagues, did not jump to conclusions.

"Who was interrogating this man?" Dobey demanded.

"We were, sir," O'Brien replied in a shaky voice.

Fargo and Dobey looked at one another before the captain first studied Starsky then the men on the ground. "Doctor?" he inquired.

McGrath looked up at him and, pushing his greying hair back, replied, "This man needs to go to the ER. I'd say he was beaten quite severely and needs X Rays to determine the extent of the damage."

Dobey wiped sweat from his forehead. "O'Brien, call an ambulance."

As the young man did so, Starsky stepped away from Morton and knelt next to Hutch. They exchanged a concerned glance before Starsky looked down to see Tony's pain-filled eyes focussed on him.

"Dave," the downed man whispered through swollen lips.

"Hey, Tony, we're gonna take care of you."

"Dave, I didn't do anything." Blood slipped from the side of his nose. "They picked me up as I was leaving my apartment! I didn't do nothing! I swear."

Starsky patted his hand, only to draw away when Tony hissed in pain and tears streamed down his face.

"Broken fingers," Hutch said.

Starsky clenched his fists and looked up at Morton, furious at the man who had made Tony suffer like this. "You picked an easy target for your prejudices didn't you? " He stood and walked over. "You wanna take on someone your own size, this time, huh? Someone who can fight back?" He grabbed the man's shirt and hauled him to his feet. "You're a piece of shit, Morton."

"That's enough, Starsky," Dobey snapped.

"Look what he did to this guy!" Starsky argued. "You gonna condone that, Captain?"

In seconds, Hutch was pulling him away. "Leave it, Starsk."

"Why should I?" Starsky struggled in Hutch's hold before he began to settle down as his partner's calm eased itself through the touch. He released a deep sigh. _What would I do without Hutch_?" He looked up at his partner, seeing the concern in his eyes. _I'd probably take Morton's head off_! he told himself.

There was a touch of humor in Hutch's expression, as he obviously read Starsky's thoughts. How they communicated like this was something neither fully comprehended. They had grown used to it but others couldn't fathom it, saying it spooked them out.

"Starsky, I'll handle this," Fargo cut into their silent interaction. "There'll be a full investigation."

"You and Hutchinson go to the hospital with **him**. Report to me later," Dobey ordered.

"Yessir," Hutch replied for them both.

"Morton, O'Brien, you two come to my office," Dobey said.

Morton glared daggers at them as he got to his feet. "You think I don't know how you fags protect each other?" he snarled.

Starsky felt Hutch's hands tighten on his arms. His partner had been bothered in the past by similar jibes but during the last months had learned to laugh it off. That was the best way to deal with it, and it hadn't affected their closeness and how they showed it in any way.

"Jeez, you're a regular ray of sunshine, Morton. Bigoted about this an' that. Is there anything that don't piss you off?"

"Enough," Fargo snapped. "Let's go."

Morton sneered but obeyed the Lieutenant's order and left with him, Dobey and O'Brien.

Hutch released Starsky's arms. "What a prick!"

"Yeah, he's a real shmuck." Starsky shook his head and sighed. "Looks like we ain't getting home any time soon."

He knelt down and tried to keep the injured man's spirits up but Tony was hurting too much. Despite that Starsky continued talking to him in an attempt to take his mind off the pain. The paramedics arrived and as Tony was lifted onto the stretcher then taken through the precinct, cops and visitors alike stared at the procession. Helen rushed over to them, walking alongside Starsky as they made their way out to the garage.

"What happened, Dave?" she asked.

"A cop crossed the line," he replied, as they reached the ambulance. He looked at her. God she was beautiful. Her eyes were full of worry and compassion and he wished they could go somewhere together, away from all this, even for a day or two. But that was impossible. "I don't know how long I'm gonna be. I'll call you."

"You look exhausted, Dave," she said.

"I'll get some sleep as soon as I can," he replied.

"Hutch," she began, looking over at the blond.

"I know. I'll make sure of it, Helen," Hutch replied. "C'mon buddy, we ought to follow them to the hospital."

Starsky smiled. Between the two of them he didn't stand a chance! Not that he minded. He reached over and squeezed Helen's hand before heading for the Torino, Hutch at his side.

ooo

Hutch looked at his partner dozing on a chair in the waiting area. Starsky's mouth was slightly open and his head was thrown back. He was going to pay for sleeping in that position. Hutch leaned his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. They were both exhausted. It was almost five hours past the end of their shift and they were still waiting for any information on Tony Vincente.

Hutch knew that Morton was a bigoted son of a bitch but to go as far as beating up a suspect at the precinct was, even for him, incredibly stupid. Them bursting in on him and the whole scene where Starsky had restrained him must have been humiliating for the other detective. Hutch wouldn't put it past the moron to try and take it out on them in some way. They would need to be vigilant.

"Detectives," a deep voice disturbed him.

Hutch gave a start, nudged Starsky when he saw a white-coated doctor approaching and they both stood up to face him. As he detailed Tony's injuries, the doctor's disapproval was only too obvious. Did he think that they had beaten his patient up? Hutch shook his head as he took in the unpleasant information.

"Will he make a full recovery?" Hutch asked.

"Well as far as we can tell there's no permanent damage but he's going to be very sore for a while and won't be able to work for a month maybe longer."

"Can we see him, Doctor?" Starsky asked.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

Starsky was at his most persuasive. "He's a friend. We didn't do this to him. The guy responsible is being questioned at the precinct. Please, doctor."

The doctor studied Starsky a moment before relenting. "All right, but no more than five minutes"

"Thanks, Doc. How long's he going to be in here?"

"A few days I would think."

Starsky looked at him and, Hutch knew that his partner felt responsible despite having had nothing to do with it. "Morton's gonna pay for this," Hutch tried to reassure, as they followed the doctor to the treatment room.

"I wish I could be sure of that," Starsky replied.

Tony lay quietly, staring at the ceiling. His ankle was in a cast, his fingers taped together and his chest bandaged. Bruising showed starkly against his undamaged skin and his eyes were sunken into his head. He glanced over as they approached, his initial fear changing to relief as he recognised them.

"Tony, I'm real sorry about this," Starsky said.

"Not your fault, Dave," Tony whispered.

"Can you tell us what happened?" Starsky pulled a chair over and sat down.

Tony trusted Starsky so Hutch let his partner deal with this while he remained in the background. During the undercover operation when Starsky had been a waiter at the disco and Hutch the DJ, Tony had developed a real crush on Starsky before knowing that the object of his affections didn't return the interest. Once that was out of the way, a friendship of sorts had developed although Hutch was convinced that Tony was still attracted to Starsky.

"I was leaving my apartment, goin' to work." Tony swallowed hard and he teared up.

"Easy. Take your time," Starsky said.

"They grabbed me and cuffed me. The older one was real rough, punched me in the gut when I asked what they were arresting me for."

"Did they read you your rights?" Starsky asked.

"Don't think so." Tony closed his eyes. "It was scary, Dave. They just came out of nowhere."

"What were they questioning you about?"

"I don't know!" Tony's voice rose in pitch. "Somethin' about the murder of Sammy Rivero. Oh god, why'd they pick on me? I didn't do anything! He hurt me so much!"

"Easy, kid. Take deep breaths."

Tony managed to slow his breathing and gradually relax.

"That's it. Now did you know Sammy Rivero?" Starsky asked.

Tony chewed at his lip. "Yeah, last year, we were together for a while until he left town. Dave, I haven't seen him since! I didn't even know he was back in Bay City!"

"How long were they interrogating you, Tony?" Starsky asked.

"All night. One of them was so full of hate. The other guy tried to stop him but…" He turned his head to the side and sobbed.

Compassion for the distraught man motivating him, Hutch placed a hand on Starsky's shoulder. "Let him rest. We can talk to him later. We should get back to Metro."

Starsky looked up at him and there was anger mixed with concern in his eyes. "Okay." He stood up. "Is there anyone we can call for you?"

The man turned back and shook his head.

"We'll be back, Tony," Starsky said.

"Dave, he beat me up 'cos I'm gay. What if he comes after me again?"

"He won't get near you. I.A and our Captain'll make sure he's off the Rivero case."

"What if the next cops are just as bad?"

Sickened by what he had heard, Hutch spoke to Tony for the first time. "**We're** going to request this case. Do you trust us, Tony?"

For the first time, Tony tried to smile. "Yeah, I trust you."

"Will you make a statement about what happened after you left your apartment last night? Internal Affairs will want to speak to you."

The man looked frightened but he nodded. "Yes, but only if you're there."

"Okay then, just take it easy," Starsky said. "We're also gonna get a uniform cop to guard you while you're here. No-one'll come in unless it's us or the medical staff."

"Thanks, Dave," Tony said, gratefully.

Starsky nodded then, turning away, followed Hutch out of the room

Nothing more was said until they reached the Torino. Starsky gripped the wheel and stared out into the parking lot. He radiated anger and Hutch placed a hand on the other's tense back then rubbed it gently.

"He's a cop, Hutch, sworn to serve and protect. How can he beat up a helpless guy like that? "

Hutch sighed. "Some cops look on it as a power trip. We've met their type before although I don't know if any would have gone as far as Morton did."

"What if they give him a slap on the wrist? You know the prejudice that's around." Starsky turned to look at him. "He could get away with it!"

"I know but Fargo seems an okay guy. I don't think he'll cover it up."

Starsky expression showed his doubts. "I don' trust anyone in I.A. even Fargo."

"His record is exemplary, Starsk. He's goes by the book."

"I still don't trust him." Starsky put the key in the ignition. "We better report to Dobey and maybe after that we can get some zzz's."

"Okay, buddy." Hutch slapped his back then settled into his seat. "I promised Helen I'd make sure you got some rest and I will."

The smile Starsky gave him was a full - blown special and Hutch returned it. He and Helen conspired to look after Starsky and they couldn't hide it from him. Hutch suspected his partner enjoyed the attention, although Starsky would never admit it, and took advantage as much as he could. What a kid, Starsky was at times, yet he could also be as tough as nails. Morton had almost pissed his pants when Starsky had grabbed him in the interrogation room.

Hutch yawned again and closed his eyes, only opening them when they arrived back at the precinct. He trudged after Starsky to their squad room. All eyes were on them as they entered Dobey's office and Hutch could sense the curious stares following their progress.

Fargo and another man he didn't recognise sat opposite Dobey. Starsky exchanged a glance with him and, as one, they moved to the side of the captain's desk by the other door where they stood shoulder to shoulder and could see the faces of all three men.

Dobey looked almost as tired as Hutch felt. "Time you two got here!" he barked.

"Captain, we've been on duty all night and at the hospital since eight, " Hutch protested.

"We want the Rivero case, Captain," Starsky demanded.

"Settle down," Dobey told them.

"How's Vincente?" Fargo asked.

"You want a doctor's report? We'll get it for you," Starsky's voice rose in pitch." The man was badly beaten up and if I hadn't stopped Morton it coulda been a lot worse. What kinda cop does that to someone 'cause he's gay, Lieutenant? And here in the station too. You want gay rights groups demonstrating on police brutality? Can the department afford the bad publicity?"

Fargo wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Starsky, calm down. We don't know all the details yet."

"Calm down! Are you gonna condone this kind of behaviour?"

"Morton denies using excessive force. He says Vincente resisted arrest and was aggressive in the interrogation room and attacked him." Fargo grimaced and rubbed at his stomach.

Starsky exchanged an angry glance with Hutch. "Bullshit! I know Tony Vincente. He's not the violent type. Does Morton have any bruises on him?"

"Even fags can turn violent," the other man spoke for the first time.

"And who the hell are you?" Starsky demanded

"This is Detective Sergeant Simonetti. He's the new boy in Internal Affairs," Fargo supplied.

Hutch studied him and didn't like what he saw. Typical I.A. bully with his arrogant manner and condescending tone. Just the type to get Starsky's back up.

"Well if he's new he oughtta keep his mouth shut until he knows what's goin' on. Morton's a bigot. He picks on everyone he don't like. Jeez the list is endless!" Starsky was getting angrier by the second. "You just gotta check his record. How'd he get away with the assault on that Hispanic guy a few months ago anyway?"

"Be careful what you say, Detective Starsky," Simonetti goaded, obviously not liking Starsky's outburst.

"Butt out, Simonetti," Starsky snapped.

"Morton brings the police force into disrepute, " Hutch said, placing a calming hand on his partner's shoulder. "It makes all our jobs harder when the public can't trust us."

"For the moment he's suspended," Fargo said. "I'll need to talk to Vincente before I can go any further and I want a statement from you two."

Hutch hoped that his impression of Fargo was correct and that he would see justice done. "Vincente won't speak unless we're there. He stated that very clearly this morning."

"Why's that I wonder?" Simonetti commented.

Starsky tensed but after a glance at Hutch, took a deep breath and relaxed. "He trusts us."

"Okay, Starsky," Fargo replied, before turning his attention to the captain. "Might be a good idea to give them the Rivero investigation. You're always saying they're your best team."

"Captain, will you?" Starsky persisted, not even basking in that revelation about Dobey's opinion of them, like he normally would have done.

Dobey nodded. "It's yours. Get some sleep. As of now you're back on days. Pick it up first thing tomorrow morning."

"Thanks, Captain," Starsky said, his satisfaction obvious to Hutch.

"What about O'Brien?" Hutch inquired. "He's a witness to Vincente's beating."

Fargo raised his brows. "He seems to be kind of unsure of what went down. Don't worry Hutchinson. We'll thoroughly investigate the situation."

Was Morton going to get away with this because he intimidated his young partner? Hutch glanced at Starsky and knew those same thoughts were running through his buddy's head. "Okay, Lieutenant, we'll give you statements later. Right now we're going home," Hutch demanded.

"We need a cop outside Tony's door. We don't want **anyone** annoying him." Starsky let his insinuation sink in.

Dobey nodded. "Okay. Arrange it."

"Thanks, Captain. Lt Fargo, we'll meet you at the hospital tomorrow. Nine okay for you? Hey and I want you to go easy on him."

Fargo nodded. "I'm not gonna intimidate him, Starsky."

"Why're you so concerned about Vincente, Detective Starsky?" Simonetti asked with a sneer.

As Starsky bristled with barely suppressed anger at the man's attitude, Hutch nudged his partner's taut shoulder. _Easy, buddy_, he willed silently.

Starsky tension eased a fraction and he replied, "He helped Hutch save my life. Is that a good enough reason?"

Simonetti sneered. "Some mightn't think so."

Starsky lunged forward but Hutch held him back by the arms.

"Simonetti, that's enough, " Fargo snapped.

The new I.A. detective frowned but didn't respond.

After a glance at his captain and noting the look he was sending Starsky's way, Hutch understood that Dobey was warning him to keep an eye on his volatile partner. He didn't need to be told. An angry Starsky could be uncontrollable and that was the last thing he wanted. "C'mon, buddy. Let's go," he murmured.

Starsky glared daggers at Simonetti before he turned and swaggered from the room. Freed from the responsibility of restraining his friend, Hutch strode forward, loomed over the new I.A. man and jutted a finger in his face. "Watch your mouth with my partner, Simonetti. D'you hear? He's the best detective in this precinct and if you listen to what he says you might learn something."

Simonetti looked alarmed. "Don't threaten me, Hutchinson, It could go bad for you with I.A if you piss me off." he warned.

"Oh yeah!" Hutch sneered. The man was a prick. Hutch could understand Starsky's dislike of him and even shared it.

"Hutchinson," Dobey barked.

"Simonetti!" Fargo snapped.

Slowly Hutch stepped back and with a glance at Fargo, then at his captain, he left the office and went in search of his partner.

He found him by the candy machine, sorting through some coins in his hand. "C'mon Starsk, you need some decent food. Let's go to that new diner on Albany. You like it there don't you?"

Starsky looked up. "Thought you wanted to sleep."

"It can wait. C'mon."

Starsky smiled and hung an arm around Hutch's shoulder. "Did anyone ever tell you, that you're beautiful?"

Hutch smirked. "Yeah on occasion."

"Must be all that blondness. Let's go. I'm hungry."

As they walked to the car, Hutch knew that under that cheerfulness, Starsky still seethed over Simonetti's words. "You got to ignore pricks like him," he said.

Starsky glanced sideways at him. "I don't like him. Somethin' about him rubs me the wrong way, Hutch. I don't want him working on Morton's case."

"We don't have any say in that, Starsk, but I think Fargo'll handle it."

"Is **he** any better?" Starsky unlocked the car then looked at him. "If Morton don't go down for this…"

"C'mon, buddy. For your own sake, leave the job behind 'til tomorrow," Hutch advised. Normally Starsky was able to do that but this had become personal to him and that made a difference.

"Okay, Ma," Starsky replied. "Feed me."

Hutch laughed and got into the car.

ooo

As they entered the hospital next morning Starsky felt rested and more relaxed. On the way there Hutch had been teasing him about his relationship with Helen, and he had accepted it good-naturedly. He and Helen had been together for over three months now and he was happy. She was a good cop, she understood the problems that came with the job, they were compatible, and Starsky knew they were on the verge of getting serious. This was the first time he had thought of marriage and, it was scary, but he would be thirty in just over a year and maybe it was time to settle down.

"It's almost nine," Hutch said as they exited the elevator. "I hope Fargo's on time. We got a lot of catch up to do on this case."

Starsky stopped abruptly when he saw Simonetti sitting on a chair in the waiting area. "Where's Lt. Fargo?" he asked.

Simonetti stood up. "He called in sick. Guess I'll have to do."

Starsky didn't know what it was about the man that he disliked, but it was there and it was real and he always went with his instincts.

Hutch moved closer to him as if sensing his unease. "Okay but remember this man is the victim here and has been through an ordeal at the precinct. We don't want him spooked."

Simonetti shrugged. "Let's do it."

Nodding to the uniform cop outside, they entered the room. A frightened Tony looked up at them.

"It's okay, "Starsky said. "This is Detective Simonetti. He's here to take your statement. How're you feeling?"

Tony looked down. "I just wanna forget about it."

Starsky exchanged a worried look with Hutch. If Tony wouldn't talk then Morton could get away with everything. "You can't, Tony. You were beaten up. We saw him standing over you."

"I don't wanna press any charges, Dave. I just want to be left alone."

"Come on, Tony. You can't let this go."

"I don' havta do anything." Tony turned his head away. "Go away."

Torn between pity and anger, Starsky didn't know what to say or do. He punched his right fist into his left hand, stormed over to the window and looked out.

"Mr Vincente, let me get this straight," Simonetti said. "Are you saying that your injuries were not caused by Detective Morton?"

"I'm sayin' nothing. Just go away and leave me alone."

"Detective Morton says that you were violent and he had to restrain you."

"Bullshit." Starsky turned around. "His injuries ain't caused by someone restraining him."

"Simonetti, you know it was an unprovoked attack. He's a bigoted son of a bitch who shouldn't be in the BCPD," Hutch added.

"I know you two have a history of conflict, Detective Hutchinson, so you're not exactly unbiased."

"That's nothing to do with it," Hutch answered

"Is that right?" Simonetti replied with a disbelieving sneer.

Hutch flushed in anger and Starsky intervened before he could explode. "I want to talk to Tony alone," he demanded.

Hutch gave a start, met his eyes, then he nodded obviously understanding that Tony would be less afraid with only the one of them present especially if it was Starsky. "C'mon," Hutch said to the I.A. detective and with a resigned look on his face Simonetti followed him from the room.

Starsky reigned in his own anger, sat down on a chair and looked at the man in the bed. He understood why Tony was fearful of taking on a cop but if he didn't then Morton wouldn't be stopped. "Why won't you press charges?" he asked in a soft tone he used for victims of crime.

"I've met guys like him before. If I press charges it'll be worse for me. If he don't come after me, then his buddies will." Tony looked at him through dark fear-filled eyes. "I'm a coward, Dave, I know that."

"We'll protect you," Starsky tried.

"Yeah, you'll be there twenty four hours a day will ya? They'll get to me, Dave. They'll make my life a misery." He broke down and cried.

Suddenly suspicious, Starsky leaned forward. "Was he here?"

Tony turned his head away. "I don't wanna talk about it"

Starsky pushed his anger aside then leaned back in his chair. He didn't know how to help the stricken man so he waited until the other had regained some control. "Okay, okay," he said. "Leave Morton for the moment. I need to ask you about Sammy Rivero. Our captain gave us the case and you can be sure we'll investigate it properly."

Tony wiped at his eyes, swallowed hard, then began to speak. "We split up over a year ago. He went to San Francisco. I didn't even know he was back here until… until I was told."

"Can you give me a list of names of people he knew in the city? Places he went to? Where he worked?"

Tony nodded. "Yeah. I can do that."

ooo

Hutch leaned against the wall. He had made some small talk with the uniform cop but after a few minutes had settled into silence. Simonetti kicked his heels in the waiting area, glaring at him from time to time. Hutch shrugged off the belligerent I.A. man's presence and waited for his partner.

He wasn't prepared for the force of nature that blasted from the room and slammed the unsuspecting uniform cop against the wall. "We told you no-one was to go in there except the medics and us!" Starsky yelled.

Hutch grabbed Starsky by the shoulders but struggled in vain to pull him away. Sometimes he forgot the smaller man's strength. "Starsky let him go!" he demanded.

Simonetti rushed up and made a grab for Starsky's arm. "Release him!"

"He let Morton in there!" Starsky spat.

"He pulled rank," the terrified man gasped.

Hutch shoved Simonetti aside much to the man's annoyance. He wasn't going to let anyone push his partner around. "Starsk." He changed his tactics, softening his voice and pressing his partner's shoulder. "C'mon, buddy."

As he had hoped, Starsky responded to the tone and the touch. Slowly he released his hold on the man and stepped back. Hutch nudged him out of the way and Starsky moved aside. Pleased that his friend had backed down Hutch took over the questioning.

"Okay, Stanmore, what happened?" Hutch kept his tone neutral but there was an edge of steel in it.

The man wiped the sweat from his face, glanced at Starsky, then back to Hutch. "Detective Morton was here around eight. I wasn't gonna let him in but he said he had to question the suspect and he had permission."

"And you didn't think to check?" Hutch snapped.

"I was going to but he brushed my objections aside. Told me to stay at my post and say nothing."

Hutch looked at the man properly for the first time, seeing how young he was, and relented. "How long was he in there?"

"About ten minutes I think."

"Enough time to scare Tony into not pressing charges," Starsky commented in disgust.

Hutch turned to the watching I.A. detective. "So what're you going to do about this?"

Simonetti shrugged. "Check it out, I guess."

Hutch exclaimed in amazement at the man's attitude. "He bullies his way in there and intimidates a man into not pressing charges and you don't seem to give a damn."

"I.A. is my department, Hutchinson. I'll do what I see fit." Simonetti glanced at Starsky for a moment then facing Hutch, commented, "Keep Detective 'pit bull' under control."

Hutch felt himself flush with rage. "No-one speaks about my partner that way," he warned, thrusting his finger in Simonetti's face.

The man sneered and sauntered away.

"Arrogant son of a bitch," Hutch snarled after him.

"Easy, Hutch," Starsky said, touching his arm. "Let's go see Dobey. Maybe he can put some pressure on Simonetti through Fargo."

Hutch released his anger through a deep sigh and nodded. "Yeah."

"I'm real sorry, Detective Starsky, Detective Hutchinson," Stanmore said. The young cop was obviously feeling guilty.

"Okay, kid," Hutch said. "I know it's tough to stand up to someone like Morton."

The young officer smiled a little and relaxed. "It won't happen again."

"Did you hear anything that happened in that room?" Starsky asked.

"No sir. I didn't."

Hutch exchanged a weary look with Starsky. This whole fiasco was going to be difficult to prove.

ooo

"We checked Tony Vincente's alibi, Captain. He was working at the Starlight club on the night Rivero died. There are fifteen people, including the owner, who'll vouch that he was there." Hutch faced his captain, his face grim. "It was easily checked so why didn't Morton and O'Brien do it?"

"Because Morton's a lousy detective," Starsky answered him. "O'Brien's still wet behind the ears. He needs a decent partner to show him the ropes."

Dobey ran his hand through his hair. "According to Morton's report, such as it is, it looks like he went for the obvious. An ex-lover." He shook his head. "I expect better from my detectives."

"There were three sets of fingerprints at the crime scene, including the victim's. No investigation has been done to find whose they are. Yet without any proof Morton assumed Vincente was guilty and tried to beat a confession out of him," Hutch said.

"Then he bullied his way into the hospital room. He can't get away with that kind of intimidation, Captain!" Starsky protested, leaning forward in his chair.

Dobey wiped the sweat from his face with a crumpled handkerchief. "You only have Vincente's word for that, Starsky."

"Stanmore admitted letting him into the room, Captain!"

"I don't know what's wrong with young cops these days," Dobey commented. "He had orders not to let anyone but you two and the medical staff in." He sighed. "Did he see or hear what happened?"

"Nothing." Starsky shook his head. "I don't trust Simonetti. He didn't seem too keen on going after Morton and for I.A. that's kinda weird."

"Yeah," Hutch chipped in. "Those guys are like bloodhounds. Since when did they go soft on a cop suspected of beating up someone in custody?"

"Lt. Fargo is in hospital with acute appendicitis. He's going to be out of it for a while." Dobey picked up the phone. "He's been running that department for three months now and I don't know who's taking over. I'll check."

"How come they ain't got a captain over there?" Starsky asked his partner, as Dobey spoke into the telephone.

Hutch shrugged. "Hey, if a Lieutenant can run it efficiently for less cost then they'll let him."

Both detectives looked up startled at Dobey's bellow. "**You're** in charge?"

They glanced at one another knowing this was not going to be good.

"Then I'd appreciate if you'd get the Morton case resolved and pronto." Dobey slammed the phone down and looked at them. "You're not gonna like this. Simonetti has rank on his side and is temporarily in charge of IA."

Starsky cursed under his breath. This was going from bad to worse. Something was fishy about Simonetti and Morton and he was going to find out what it was.

"Okay," Dobey said. "I want this Rivero killing solved. So get on it. I want to know whose fingerprints were found at the crime scene."

Starsky nodded. Although he had Vincente's list of Rivero's acquaintances it would be wise to speak with Huggy Bear first. If anyone could tell them about the murder victim, it would be the man whose knowledge of the street was second to none.

Two hours hour later they were sitting in a bar across from his old friend "Sammy Rivero was a hustler?" Starsky repeated Huggy's words.

"He was well known on the streets," Huggy answered. "Liked to blackmail rich guys after some secret action."

Hutch shifted beside him in the booth, and Starsky glanced at him. "What do you think?"

"I think that we need to find out who he was blackmailing and then we might find his killer."

"Since you two are my favorite cops, I might be able to help you there," Huggy said with a grin.

"Yeah, spill it."

Starsky had first met Huggy Bear years ago. Although off duty, he had automatically gone to the aid of the slightly built man being beaten up by two muscled hoods. After a short clash with a street and army- trained fighter, like Starsky, the now bloodied assailants had fled for their lives. Since Huggy had refused to go to hospital, Starsky had then helped the shaken man to his nearby apartment and cleaned him up. They talked for hours and despite their differences, the germ of a friendship had been born. Huggy had insisted he owed Starsky and since then had helped him many times. Hutch had been unsure of him at first but had also come to trust him for his friendship and always reliable information..

"I heard on the grapevine that Rivero had a fling with a wealthy dude by the name of Eric Rantzinger. He was boasting about getting lotsa bread from him for more than services rendered." Huggy glanced around before leaning over and adding, "Rantzinger senior, Eric's dad, is some big time financier and lives in a mansion in Bay City Heights. Eric works for daddy."

"That gives us a place to start," Starsky said.

"Anyone else he hustled recently, Huggy?" Hutch asked.

"A lawyer by the name of Anthony Morland. The word is he's getting married next week."

"Okay, thanks, Hug," Starsky looked at his partner. "I guess we can work with this."

ooo

The Rantzinger mansion was impressive but Hutch had grown up in this kind of environment and it didn't daunt him. He took the lead speaking to father and son while Starsky sat watching. Hutch noted how both men kept glancing at his partner, and he controlled a smile, knowing how intimidating a brooding and silent Starsky could be.

After some minutes of questioning he cut to the chase. "Where were you between 9pm and midnight on the night of the 3rd ?"

Rantzinger junior nervously twiddled with his fingers as he replied, "I had nothing to do with Rivero's death. I swear it. I was at a party from 8pm until 2am. I have ten witnesses."

Hutch leaned forward and stared at the father. "And you sir?

The older man's eyes widened in shock. "Are you insinuating that I killed this… this man?"

"You have a motive. Your son just told us that Rivero threatened to expose him."

"We paid him what he wanted," the distraught older man replied.

"He promised to go out of town," the son added. "Neither my father or I had reason to kill him." He hung his head, obviously distressed.

"Eric, behave like a man!" his father snapped.

"I bet your son is a real disappointment to you, Mr Rantzinger." Starsky spoke for the first time. "To find out he's gay and having sex with hustlers must have been a shock."

The man flushed and looked away, rubbing at hands that looked gnarled with arthritis.

"Answer my partner's question. Where were you the night of the murder?" Starsky asked.

"I was at a meeting."

"What time did you arrive and leave?" Hutch questioned.

"I don't remember."

"Mr Rantziger, we can take you down to the precinct if you don't co-operate," Starsky threatened.

"This has gone far enough," Rantziger replied. "I'm saying no more until my lawyer is present."

Hutch exchanged a glance and silent message with Starsky to take this further. Both were aware that the older man was hiding something. Hutch had a gut feeling about this and he could see his partner did too. The chances that he was their killer had just increased.

"You met with Rivero, didn't you, sir," Hutch took over the questioning again, trying to gently coax the man. "He threatened to out your son despite the fact that you paid for his silence."

"He was scum wasn't he? A hustler out to mess up your son's life," Starsky goaded.

"Dad!" the younger man pleased. "You didn't meet him did you?"

"Quiet, Eric. I'm saying nothing until my lawyer is present."

"Very well, sir," Hutch said. "Now we'd appreciate if you'd come with us to the precinct for further questioning. Have you ever been fingerprinted? We have some clear prints at the scene of the crime that haven't been matched up."

ooo

Prints at the crime scene matched Eric Rantzinger senior but the man insisted that he had gone there to pay Rivero off not to ruin his son. Starsky was inclined to believe him for several reasons, the main one being the verification by medical reports that their suspect **was** crippled with arthritis and probably unable to hold the blunt instrument established as the murder weapon. It didn't however rule out that he had paid someone to do his dirty work.

Next they followed up the second lead Huggy had given them and entered the offices of criminal lawyer, Anthony Morland.

"What can I do for you, Officers?" the young, dark haired man asked, standing up and holding out his hand in greeting. Morland was in his mid thirties and had an impressive resume as one of Bay City's brightest attorneys.

"Sammy Rivero," Starsky snapped.

Morland paled, lowered his hand, then slumped back into his chair and looked down. "How'd you find out?"

"We have our sources. Where were you on the night of the 3rd?"

Morland swallowed hard. "I was at home."

"Alone?" Hutch asked.

"Yes, I was working on a case." Morland squared his shoulders and stared at them in defiance. "I have no witnesses but I assure you officers that I was at my apartment."

"Did you get any phone calls to prove that?" Hutch questioned.

The man shook his head.

Starsky studied the young man, who maybe was three or four years older than himself and Hutch. "You're getting married soon?"

Morland gave a start and looked over at him.

"Does she know you associate with hustlers?" Starsky stood up, walked around the lawyer's side, sat down on the desk and slapped the wood hard. Morland jumped and looked up at him. "She ain't gonna like that, Mr Morland. In fact she could call the wedding off. And y'know something, I wouldn't blame her would you? Her smart, successful fiancé needing, wanting sex with other men!"

"It was a mistake. Please, she mustn't know," the man begged.

"He was blackmailing you, wasn't he?" Hutch went to the other side of the desk and continued the good cop role. "Any guy who'd do that is trash, isn't he?" He picked up the picture on the desk of a smiling young woman and looked at it. "To threaten to ruin a good marriage to a beautiful woman like this shows just how low someone can go."

Morland looked from one to the other. "I didn't know what to do. I didn't mean….." He broke off as if he realised he was incriminating himself and sat shaking.

"I think you'd better accompany us to the station, sir," Hutch suggested.

Starsky stood up and glanced around the plush office. If Morland was their man then he had thrown away quite a lifestyle.

ooo

"Good work," Dobey congratulated them in the squad room. "The other prints matched Morland and that confession of his should stand up in court."

"He's claiming self defence, Captain," Hutch commented. "A good lawyer is all he needs to get off with the charge."

"Well the verdict is not our concern, "Dobey replied. " You took a case that was going nowhere and solved it very quickly."

"It wasn't a difficult case, Captain," Starsky stated. "Instead of beating up innocent men, Morton should have investigated it properly." He glanced over at O'Brien who sat at a nearby desk, seemingly intent on his work, but no doubt listening to every word.

Dobey sighed and glanced at the rookie detective before heading for his office.

Starsky tapped his fingers on his table then clenched and unclenched his hands. "And what the hell is Simonetti playin' at? You tell me, Hutch! He still hasn't dealt with Morton."

Hutch settled back in his seat and looked at his tense partner. Starsky like a time bomb waiting to explode and no one wanted to be around when that happened. "Hey buddy, calm down. How about we check up on Simonetti and Morton and see if there's any connection."

Starsky snapped his fingers. "Why didn't **I** think of that?"

"Because **I'm** the brains of this partnership, dummy!"

As Hutch had intended, Starsky chuckled and his shoulders relaxed. "Oh yeah!"

"Yeah and don't you forget it." Hutch grinned at his partner.

Starsky's natural optimism resurfaced and replaced the tension. "Okay, college boy. You sometimes get good ideas. Not often but sometimes…"

Hutch laughed. "Yeah, yeah. Okay will you sweet talk Lorna or will I?" Lorna Wachowski was a petite brunette who worked as a civilian clerk in Records and who might just be persuaded to pull Morton and Simonetti's files. She was sweet on Starsky who flirted unashamedly with all of the female staff.

Starsky stretched out his legs and grinned. "Hey she likes me. I'll do it, Blondie."

"She may demand payment, like a date!" Hutch teased.

"Hey, I'm taken!" Starsky replied, with a wink.

Hutch chuckled. Starsky was happy with Helen despite their often turbulent relationship. Hutch wondered at times if Helen resented the fact that Starsky was so attractive to women. She knew that Starsky was not the kind of guy to cheat on her but still it must be tough for her. Hutch had known his friend for years and still found himself being caught unawares by something Starsky did or said so who knew how Helen coped with that?

"So you are. I feel sorry for Helen." Hutch raised his eyebrows and waited for the response.

Starsky leaned closer and murmured. "Why? We have great sex!"

Hutch spluttered and laughed. "I'll bet. I can always tell y'know. You 're wiped out in the morning!"

Starsky looked indignant. "Hey I got plenty stamina."

"If you took vitamins and ate healthily you'd have **more** stamina! Like me!"

"Yeah, yeah!" Starsky got to his feet. "I'm gonna go see Lorna."

Hutch waved him away and worked on reports until he became aware of his partner standing in the doorway. The look on Starsky's face and his stance spoke volumes to Hutch, and leaving the paperwork for another time, he jumped to his feet, grabbed his jacket and headed towards his friend. Sensing that they needed privacy, Hutch followed him to the garage and once in the car turned towards Starsky.

"Okay, spill it."

"Simonetti and Morton graduated the same year from the San Diego Police Academy. They **must** know each other."

Hutch wasn't surprised. "That doesn't mean anything, Starsk."

"A coincidence, Hutch? It might explain Simonetti's behaviour.

"It might. So what do you want to do about it?" Hutch asked.

"Let's go to I.A."

"Are you crazy?" Hutch asked. "Confront Simonetti?"

"Yeah, let's see how he responds."

"Shouldn't we speak first to Dobey?"

"He'll tell us to leave it to him. No, Hutch. We need to do this ourselves."

Hutch sighed. Starsky could be impetuous and this idea was dangerous but something about it appealed to him. To go to the lion's den and see if they could trap Simonetti into admitting he was going easy on a suspect cop might be interesting. Starsky was watching him carefully and Hutch smiled. His partner grinned in response and they both got out of the Torino and headed back into the building.

ooo

Simonetti looked up in surprise as they entered. Trying to catch him off guard, Starsky slouched into a chair and stared at him. Hutch perched on the arm and his very presence, as always, bolstered Starsky's confidence.

"What do you two want?" Simonetti asked.

"Well," Starsky drawled, "We heard a little story about an I.A detective goin' easy on a suspect cop who just happened to be an old Academy buddy."

"Yeah," Hutch cut in. "We didn't want to believe it but we thought seeing you're in charge of I.A just now, we ought to check it out with you."

Simonetti flushed to the roots of his thinning hair and stammered out an incoherent reply.

"So, Simonetti, whaddya think?" Starsky asked. "Hey, didn't Morton graduate 25th in his class, just below **you?**"

Simonetti stood up "What're you trying to insinuate, Starsky?"

"Well if it was true, then it might spell trouble for the I.A guy." Starsky gave Simonetti his most insolent smile.

Simonetti spluttered with indignation. "Are you accusing me of not being impartial?"

"Who me?" Starsky affected innocence.

"What my partner wants to say, is, that **we** solved the Rivero case in just over a day." Hutch said. "Morton had been on it for a week and found no real leads. He jumped to conclusions and with no evidence wrongly accused Tony Vincente, a former lover. Morton's well known as a bigot and looks like it was a rush for him to beat up Vincente whilst in custody."

"Anything to force a confession," Starsky added.

"On top of that you have testimony from the uniform officer on guard that Morton pushed his way into Vincente's hospital room. Next thing we know the victim won't press charges. Seems evident that something fishy is going on, especially when, at the least, Morton should've been reprimanded for going in there." Hutch spoke conversationally but Starsky noted the steel underlying it and there was no doubt that Simonetti was also aware of that. Hutch was an enigma. He could come across as gentle and patient due to his soft-spoken voice, but he could appear cold and aloof and be menacing and intimidating when he wanted to and that often surprised people. "Then there's O'Brien," he continued, "Why aren't you pushing him on what went down?"

"Don't tell me how to do my job, Hutchinson," Simonetti fumed.

"Someone's gotta," Starsky jumped in, "Because you sure ain't doing it right."

Simonetti looked ready to explode. "Get out of my office."

"Hey, I thought this was Lt. Fargo's office!" Starsky commented, looking around.

Simonetti glared at him.

"Aw we're only tryin' to help ya. We kinda figured Fargo's job is maybe getting too much for you to handle, **Sergeant** Simonetti," Starsky mocked.

Simonetti jumped to his feet. "I told you to get out!"

Starsky noted the other man's repeated swallowing, the sweat breaking out on his forehead, fists clenching and unclenching. They had made an enemy of the I.A. detective but he didn't give a damn. Morton needed stopping and this department had the ability to make sure that happened.

"You'd better do something about Morton soon," he said, getting to his feet.

"Before it gets around that he's an old Academy buddy of yours," Hutch added.

Simonetti folded his arms across his chest and pursed his lip before turning his back on them and staring out of the window.

Starsky exchanged a knowing glance with Hutch and they both stood up

"I almost didn't beat you into second place," Hutch commented as they sauntered to the door.

"I don't hold no grudges, y'know." Starsky responded with a grin.

"I know. And boy, I'm glad of that!" Hutch exclaimed, as they left the office.

As intended they had shaken Simonetti. Now they had to wait and see what happened next.

ooo

The squad room was busy. Hutch sat typing up a report whilst across from him Starsky teetered back on his chair with his legs up on the desk, ankles crossed and hands behind his head. It had been two days since they had confronted Simonetti and so far nothing had happened. Suddenly the door swung open and a red-faced Morton burst into the room. Everyone looked up and silence fell.

His eyes wild with anger, Morton pointed at them. "You bastards cost me my job!"

"I don't think so," Hutch replied. "You did that all on your own."

"You friggin' made sure I could never work Homicide again. Dobey's golden boys ain't you? Can't do no wrong can you? Solved the case so fast!"

"It's not our fault if you're incompetent," Hutch commented, calmly slipping paper out of the typewriter.

"They're sending me to Bunko!"

"You're lucky they didn't take your badge," Starsky drawled.

"You're gonna be sorry you crossed me!" Morton yelled.

Dobey must have heard the shouting because he opened his office door and looked into the room.

Starsky got to his feet. "You ain't got the balls, Morton. Just get outta here and have fun in Bunko. Goodbye."

"One day I'll get you two fags**."**

Starsky grinned then blew him a kissinfuriating him even moreMorton lunged towards him but Starsky side stepped and the furious man crashed into the desk. Laughter erupted in the room and almost purple-faced now, Morton straightened up.

"That's enough," Dobey snapped. "Morton, any more of this and I **will** take your badge."

Morton glanced over at the Captain, seemed about to speak, then sneered and walked out.

Hutch looked after him. "They were too lenient with him. He's dangerous. He's becoming unhinged."

"He can't do **too** much damage in Bunko. I'll keep an eye on him." Dobey sighed and returned to his office.

Starsky grimaced, sat down, and Hutch placed his hands on the back of the chair. He looked over at the other cops. "Any of you guys think he should've remained in Homicide?" Cops protected their own but Morton had made too many enemies and maybe, in this case, they would be glad to be rid of him.

There was silence for a moment then Mackenzie, who had once temporarily partnered Hutch, spoke up. "Hey, he's never been the most popular guy in the department, Hutch, and he went too far this time. We thought they'd take his badge. He got off lightly."

"A bad cop like him tars us all," said Macey, an older uniform cop agreed. "I could tell you stories about him that'd give you nightmares. He was bound to be caught sooner or later!"

O'Brien swallowed. "I only worked with him for a coupla weeks but hated it. He treated me like dirt. I shouldn't have let him beat that guy up."

"We're better off without him," said Wellins, a young black detective a recent addition to Homicide, who been subjected to Morton's jibes.

Hutch relaxed glad that their colleagues felt this way for if they had blamed **them** for Morton's situation then it would have been very difficult indeed.

ooo

Starsky kissed Helen once again then left the apartment. They had made up after another fight and it had been sweet. He bounced down the stairs to the Torino and hummed his favorite songs all the way to Hutch's cottage. Life was good. He was in a job he relished, he was in love with a gorgeous girl and partnered with the best friend he had ever known.

Hutch was waiting outside for him. "You're late again," he complained as he settled in the passenger seat.

Starsky gave him the smile that Hutch could never resist, and watched his partner's irritation disappear like magic. Yes, he could even twist Hutch around his finger when he chose to. "Let's rock and roll, Blondie."

Hutch rolled his eyes. "Someone had a good time last night."

Starsky chuckled. "You know me too well."

"Unfortunately yeah. Okay I'm going to log us in. Let's hope Bay City is quiet today."

Nothing could dampen Starsky's mood. Not the hype they picked up for stealing a wallet, nor the pimp who had been found dead, nor the hooker strung out on H, nor the knife-wielding thief who had tried to hold up a diner.

"What's up with you today?" Hutch asked, turning to him.

Starsky grinned. "I feel good. Is that a crime?"

"Oh to be in love!" Hutch teased.

"Yeah, yeah," Starsky replied.

"All Units, all units," the radio crackled into life. "There's a report of a 10-70 at 985 Addison Rd. Prowler could be armed. Proceed with caution."

"This is Zebra three. We are responding," Hutch replied.

"That's just around the corner," Starsky said. "Nothing much there except empty warehouses."

"Yeah it's like a ghost town. Okay it's silent running, huh Starsk?"

Starsky chuckled. "That's not exactly a police term, buddy."

Starsky manoeuvred the car along a narrow alleyway then into Addison Rd. The street was completely empty and the large buildings there reeked of disuse. He stopped the car close to 985 and both men, guns drawn, exited the Torino and ran for the shelter of a wall. Their connection humming between them, they entered through a battered door, prepared for anything. Only silence greeted them and after a search of the empty warehouse proved fruitless, they relaxed a little.

"There's no-one here but I'll check the back door anyway," Hutch said moving away.

"Okay. I'll report in," Starsky replied, and headed for the door they had come in by.

ooo

The screeching of brakes alerted Hutch at once. He raced to the building exit for something told him that Starsky was in trouble. Gun held out in front of him he ran out the door to see a dark blue Chevy racing down the empty street. He noted the plate number as he took a shot at a back wheel but the car was moving too swiftly and the bullet went wide. Cursing under his breath, Hutch ran to the empty Torino only to find the tires flat and Starsky nowhere to be found.

"Shit, shit, shit…" he muttered as he picked up the mike, his mind racing as he reported everything. With sinking heart he took in the blood on the outside of the Torino door. Starsky's blood, of that he was sure. He was helpless here on this empty road without transport.

The minutes seemed endless and fearful for his partner's life, he yelled, "What's taking you so long? Starsky's been abducted. He could be seriously injured. Get me some help!"

"Hutch, " Captain Dobey's voice registered. "There's a black and white on the way to you. O'Brien too. He wants to help you. Should be with you in a minute. Dobey paused. "Hutch, that license plate is registered to Alex Morton. There's an APB out on him. Every cop in the city is looking out for that Chevy."

Hutch's blood ran cold. "That no good bastard threatened my partner and no-one took him seriously. I told you he was dangerous. I told you I.A was lenient with him." He didn't dare think of what Morton could do to his partner.

"Calm down, Hutch," Dobey soothed. "We'll get him."

A black and white cruiser and a brown Ford drew up together.

"They're here now, Captain. Gotta go."

"Okay Hutch, keep me posted."

O'Brien leaned out of the window. "I want to go with you, Hutch," the young cop said.

Hutch nodded, aware that the man was trying to make up for his cowardice over the beating of Tony Vincente. "Ok. You drive." He turned to the two uniformed men. "Stay with the Torino. The crime lab team should be here soon."

Wasting no more time, he jumped into the passenger seat of O'Brien's car and tried to contain his anger and fear for Starsky as the other man drove too cautiously. Starsky was a skilful driver and Hutch had every confidence in his ability despite the disparaging remarks he made during their normal banter.

"I didn't think he would go this far, Hutch," O'Brien said, glancing at him.

"You saw what he did to Vincente. He's a dangerous bigot who should never have been on the force." Hutch tried to figure it all out. "He's over the edge now. He's lost his job in Homicide and he blames Starsky, a Jewish cop. Morton was probably listening to the radio. He knew where we were patrolling because we called in our location. He could have set us up then waited for his chance. Starsky went outside to report and Morton hit him from behind, the only way he'd catch Starsky unawares. It coulda been me out there but I bet he was full of glee when he saw it was Starsky."

"You're some detective, Hutch," O'Brien said.

"Do you think he's gonna let anyone or anything stop him get his revenge?" Hutch added, ignoring the other man's praise.

O'Brien was silent.

"Okay, you were partnered with him. Where does he live. Where are his haunts?" Hutch asked, his patience stretched as his fear intensified.

"He wouldn't be so stupid as to go to his home would he?" O'Brien asked.

"Who knows. Give me a list, O'Brien," he snarled, as worry fed his fear.

After the other detective told him, Hutch activated the mike and gave the information onto Dobey. "We're going to his house," Hutch added. "Don't expect him to be there but there may be some clues."

"Okay, Hutch. Good luck."

Hutch stared out of the window, scanning every blue car, every license plate in the hope that his partner was in it. "It's pointless, " he muttered to himself. "He'll have ditched the Chevy by now. He could be anywhere." He turned to O'Brien. "Does Morton have another car?".

"I think so. He told me once that his ex- wife left her car with him."

"What kind of car is it?"

"I don't know, Hutch."

"You don't know shit, O'Brien. Think. What was her name?" Hutch flushed with rage at the younger man.

"I only knew Morton for a few weeks, Hutch," O'Brien replied, his voice shaky. "He only mentioned her once and not by name I don' think."

Hutch picked up the mike again and relayed this further information to the captain. "He might be using this car. If it's not registered to him then you need to find out about the ex wife. It may well still be in her name."

The car drew up outside a small, well-maintained house. "This is it, Hutch," O'Brien said.

"Okay, Captain, we're here." Hutch glanced up and down the street but there were no blue Chevys to be seen.

"Hutch, if he's there be very careful. I'm sending back up."

Hutch placed the mike down, took out his gun and left the car; O'Brien following close behind. With great care he opened the small garage door at the side of the house, but it was empty. He indicated that he was going round the back but to his annoyance had to spell it out before the other man understood. He was spoilt, he knew, by the almost psychic connection he shared with Starsky. They just understood what the other was thinking and it took very little in hand signals or body language to transmit what was necessary. He took a deep breath as he tried to stop the worries plaguing him about his partner's condition. He needed to remain positive and alert to all possibilities.

He glanced in the kitchen window and saw no signs of anyone in there. That didn't necessarily mean that the house was unoccupied. Stepping back, he braced himself and kicked the door in. He let O'Brien in the front door and together they searched the living room and kitchen.

"Nothing," Hutch snarled, slapping his fist against the wall, and swore with venom he rarely used.

O'Brien visibly jumped.

Forcing his emotions under control, Hutch continued his search of the house.

In the bedroom, O'Brien held a picture out to him. "This looks like it could be his wife."

It showed a younger Morton standing with an arm around a pretty young woman. Hutch took the picture out of its frame and looked at the back. In neat handwriting it read _Alex and Lisa, Seattle, 1967_.

"Go tell Dobey to check the name Lisa Morton," Hutch ordered as he started looking through drawers. Finding nothing he continued his search in every place he could think of until on a shelf in a walk in closet he found a box full of papers. Riffling through them he found divorce documents and an address for Lisa Morton. Running downstairs and out to the car, he slipped into the driver's seat yelling to O'Brien to get in.

"22 Warren Street," Hutch snapped. "Find out if it's her current address."

"Who?" asked the bewildered O'Brien.

"Keep up, man! Lisa Morton." Hutch took just a few seconds to contemplate again how much in tune he and his partner were and how effective that made them as cops before taking a left at a speed he would normally never consider. Starsky's life could be on the line here and that was more important than anything.

ooo

Starsky became aware of a thumping headache. He had no idea of where he was and that worried him. Last thing he remembered was picking up the mike to call dispatch then everything had gone black. _Where the hell am I?_ He groaned as the pain intensified.

He opened his eyes to blurred vision. Blinking hard he could only wait until it began to clear before trying to identify his surroundings. He lay on his side on a dusty wooden floor in a small bare room with peeling wallpaper and a dirty window. Aware that he was bound in some way, he struggled to move and found his arms held behind his back and his wrists tightly cuffed. He tried to ease the discomfort in his shoulders but pain streaked up his arms and he bit back a moan. Attempting to move his legs he discovered them tied with what appeared to be some kind of wire. A warm stickiness around his throbbing ankles suggested that he was bleeding.

Nausea rose in his throat and he tried to force it down. He guessed he had a concussion. How bad it was he couldn't tell but if Hutch didn't find him soon then things could get a whole lot worse.

He heard a door open and tried to peer around. "Who's there?" he asked.

"Well, well Starsky. Not so cocky now are you?" a sneering voice replied.

Starsky could scarcely believe his ears. "Morton?"

"Yep. Right first time."

"Are you crazy, Man? This is assault and kidnapping of a police officer!"

Morton came into his line of vision and crouched down. "I don't give a shit. My career's gone. My wife's gone. I got nothing left. It's all your fault. Yours and your partner."

Desperation exuded from the man and Starsky realised that Morton was on a knife-edge. He tried to reason with him. "C'mon, Alex. Think. You still got a job. You don't wanna go to jail do you? Y'know what happens to cops in jail. Let me go and we'll just forget this all happened. Let me go before Hutch finds you."

Hutch would be pulling out all the stops to try to find him and would be frantic with worry. However his partner would appear calm and calculated as he sifted through all the clues. Hutch would have some outbursts along the way that would shock those working with him and Starsky almost smiled, despite the difficulty of his situation. He knew his partner only too well now.

"No way, Starsky. You're gonna pay for what you did to me. "The whole precinct is out looking for you, but they ain't gonna find you. They think they're so smart. Hutchinson thinks he's so superior to everyone else yet he still hasn't found you."

"Why're you doin' this?" Starsky struggled to speak through an aching throat and dry mouth.

"Because you and your pretty partner got me into this. I didn't care which one I got but I'm glad now it was you."

"You only got yourself to blame, Morton. You've been goin' this way for years but you went too far with Tony Vincente and got caught. You were lucky to get off with transfer. You coulda gone to jail."

"Scum like Vincente deserve what they get. Queers! They're unnatural."

Starsky shifted, trying to ease the pain in his arms. "Vincente's a human being. Can't you see that?" He grimaced with discomfort. "You think that kidnapping another cop is a good idea, Morton? Let me go. Give yourself up and maybe you have a chance at getting a suspended sentence."

"I told you I don't give a shit any more," the man said.

"Come on. You can rebuild things." Starsky could not feel sorry for Morton but he had to try and keep him talking. "You still got a future."

"I got no life to rebuild. No future."

"That's not true," Starsky began.

Morton jumped to his feet. "How the friggin' hell d'you know? You and your partner, two hotshots who bend the rules, make the busts; get an arrest record in your first year that cops years on the job can't match. And everyone admires you for it. All I hear is Starsky and Hutch see how smart they are. Starsky and Hutch, see the results they get. Starsky and Hutch, see how close they are. Yeah, I see how close they are. Freakin' queers."

Morton raised his fist and smashed it into Starsky's unprotected stomach.

ooo

Back at the precinct Hutch looked at the clock. It had been ten hours since Starsky had been snatched and Hutch was churning inside. He had spent a few minutes with a frantic Helen trying to calm her fears before she been forced to return to her own workload when her captain would not allow her to join the search for Starsky. Hutch thought that insensitive of him but had said nothing.

They had checked out all the leads and come up with nothing and he was once more going through Morton's file. "There must be something, somewhere he'd go," he muttered.

O'Brien slumped down in Starsky's chair only to jump up when he saw the glare Hutch directed his way. He swallowed, pulled over another one and sat down. "We checked his house, his ex wife's place, his sister's apartment, his various haunts. There's nowhere else I can think of."

Dobey walked over to them, his expression full of sympathy as he looked down at Hutch. "I've talked to his previous partners. Morton ran through partners like no cop I've heard of and none have a good word to say about him. I've located another, name of Don Maxwell. He's left the police force and now runs a PI business. He'll be here soon."

Hutch looked up at the older man. "We've got to find Starsky, Captain. God knows what Morton's doing to him."

"I know, son." Dobey patted his shoulder.

Hutch studied the file again until his name being called distracted him. He looked over to see the captain standing next to a balding man wearing a shabby suit. "Hutch this is Don Maxwell."

The man sat down and looked at him. "Detective Hutchinson, I'll do what I can to help but I haven't seen Morton in almost five years."

"Anything you can tell me about where he might go to hide out, some place that you remember he frequented. Please Mr Maxwell, my partner's life depends on it."

Maxwell sat back. "Morton was one of the reasons I left the force. He's a bad cop. He made my life hell…"

"I don't have the time. Please, if you can think of anywhere," Hutch interrupted.

"He used to have a beach cabin at Seaview Heights. I think it was abandoned after a fire destroyed most of it."

Hope leaped into Hutch's heart at this news and as he pushed Maxwell for the address, he knew, he just knew, deep inside that this was where his partner was. Praying that he was not too late, Hutch rushed from the squad room followed by O'Brien.

ooo

Starsky curled up against the pain. His mind was reeling from the physical and verbal assaults inflicted on him but he wasn't giving up. Hutch was on his way. He had to be on his way_. Please Hutch, find me._

He could hear Morton prowling the room, and prepared himself for a further attack. _Friggin' coward, beating a bound man_, he railed. If only he could get his hands free but knew that to be impossible. His arms had gone numb and he could hardly feel his hands and feet. He wondered how many bruises he must have and if he would survive to moan about them to Hutch and Helen.

He wouldn't bet on his chances now for he was sure that Morton would eventually kill him. The man was totally over the edge and capable of anything. Starsky was a sitting duck and without Hutch's intervention was a dead man. His big blond partner was his support and Starsky desperately needed his strength to lean on just now.

He thought of his mother and how his death would affect her for he remembered only too well her suffering when his dad had been killed. Hutch would be devastated too and Helen. _Please don't let me die._

There was a sudden movement in the room.

"Keep back!" Morton screamed.

Hope surged through Starsky's mind. _It's Hutch_. _I knew it._ _It's Hutch_. _He's found me._

A rough hand dragged him up onto his knees and he almost blacked out with the pain. Forcing open heavy eyes he saw the most welcome sight in the world just a few feet away. Hutch at his deadliest; body tense, eyes hard, magnum clutched in both hands. Behind him O'Brien stood with fear-filled eyes.

Cold steel nicked his throat and a warm wetness slid down his neck. A knife was poised there and he could do nothing but remain there, and wait and hope that Hutch could resolve the situation

"Don't be a fool, Morton," Hutch said. "You don't want to kill a cop. Put the knife down or I'll shoot."

"If you shoot your partner's dead, Hutchinson," Morton sneered. "He's bleeding already. I just need to add some more pressure to slit his throat."

"Come on, Alex, put the knife down," O'Brien chipped in.

"Listen to him, Morton. Maybe you can salvage something if you let my partner go," Hutch added.

"You're all so concerned about this piece of shit," Morton yelled before going into a vitriolic anti-Semitic rant as vicious as Starsky had ever heard.

_Fuck you, _Starsky snarled, fury raging through him. There had to be something he could do. Adrenaline surged through him and he concentrated on his hands. Although barely able to feel them he knew he had to force them to move. He could feel Morton's body at his back and suddenly an idea came to him. If only he could make his hands work. _Come on now_, he urged himself and was rewarded when his fingers flexed. _That's it_. With a grimace of distaste Starsky reached for the only vulnerable part of his captor's body he could reach and squeezed as hard as he could.

Morton yelped in pain and released him. Taking the opportunity, Starsky rolled away and lay there shaking, as there was a flurry of activity around him. He sensed rather than saw Hutch and knew that Morton was being subdued and cuffed.

Moments later, Hutch was kneeling beside him and Starsky sighed with utter relief as a warm hand slid through his hair.

ooo

"Get me the keys," Hutch yelled to O'Brien as he took in Starsky's cuffed hands. "Easy buddy, I got you," he crooned.

O'Brien, who was holding his struggling former partner by the arms, searched him, found the keys in a pocket and tossed them over.

Hutch caught them and unlocked the tight restraints from his friend's wrists. Starsky's arms had to hurt, probably numbed, and his wrists were swollen from the pressure of the cuffs. "Easy, buddy," he murmured as he dealt with the unpleasant task of removing the wire around Starsky's bloodied socks. "How you doing? Huh?" Hutch bit back his anger at seeing his friend like this.

"Just terrific," Starsky mumbled, into the dusty floor.

Hutch slid over until he was behind his friend's head. "Just relax. Everything's going to be fine now." As two uniform cops entered the room he snapped instructions "Get an ambulance here at once. Take Morton into custody. Charge him with assault and kidnapping of a police officer. I'll deal with the details later."

The cops instantly obeyed the order, hustling Morton from the room.

"Got 'im by the balls, didn't I?" Starsky asked, with a slight twinkle in his pain filled eyes.

Hutch very gently lifted his partner then rested the curly head against his knees. "You sure did, buddy. You're a street fighter. Even bound and hurt, no-one can write **you** off," Hutch said with a smile. "Can you feel your arms?"

"Kinda numb," Starsky muttered.

Hutch tried to rub some feeling into Starsky's arms then with great care moved them to rest at his sides. He didn't know how long his friend had been cuffed but it must have been hours judging by the gasps of pain. He hated seeing Starsky hurting like this but forced himself to continue. He was being as gentle as possible but this response was inevitable.

"Jeez that hurts," Starsky complained.

"I know, buddy, I'm sorry. I'm just trying to make you more comfortable." Hutch gently eased Starsky's head to one side and bit his lip when he saw the congealed blood there. He stroked the hair from his friend's forehead. "I'm just going to check you out. Okay?"

"Okay," Starsky said.

Hutch lifted the stained blue T-shirt and bit back some choice expletives on seeing the bruises forming on his friend's body. He didn't want to distress Starsky any further. Forced to endure Morton's abuse, he needed some care and comfort now and Hutch was only too willing to supply that.

"What can I do, Hutch?" O'Brien said.

Hutch had forgotten about the young cop. Without looking up from his partner, he said. "Make sure Captain Dobey and Detective Helen Davidson know Starsky's been found battered but alive." He brought out a handkerchief and pressed it against the neck wound. It didn't look too deep but knowing how much more serious it could have been, the sight of the blood distressed him.

"I knew you'd find me," Starsky said, staring up at him with trust in his intense blue eyes.

Hutch blinked back sudden tears as those words added to the worry, tension and fear of the last hours hit him hard. He bent his head. "I thought I wouldn't get to you in time. I'd never forgive myself if…."

"Hey Blondie. You got here. I'm gonna be fine. Don't blame yourself."

"Starsk, I hate seeing you hurt like this. I could have prevented it." Hutch lowered his forehead to Starsky's. His partner was not the only one needing reassurance. "I'm sorry."

Somehow Starsky's hand reached the back of Hutch's neck. "Hey, quit it, ya hear? You're not responsible for Morton's actions. Anyway I need you to take care of me now so get over yourself."

Hutch could not help but chuckle at that and was about to speak when a cough brought him alert to the fact they were not alone. Looking around he saw O'Brien there. "What're you still here for?" he snapped.

" Um, I'm j..just going," the young cop stuttered and rushed from the room.

"I guess this means more rumors," Hutch said with a grin.

"Yeah," Starsky sighed. "I don' care. Do you?"

"Nope," Hutch replied, relief spreading through him for if they could banter then all would be well.

"Help me sit up, will ya?" Starsky asked as he struggled to raise himself up.

"No way. Just you lie there and rest."

"Your knees ain't that soft," Starsky moaned.

"Always complaining," Hutch countered.

Starsky sighed. "I gotta get up from here. Been laying here too long."

"You could have internal injuries, Starsk." Hutch responded. The last thing he wanted was anything worse happening to his friend.

"Please Hutch. I don't have any internal injuries. Just bruised is all."

Hutch found it almost impossible to refuse Starsky at the best of times but when he was injured and looked at him with those big pleading eyes…. He took a deep breath, helped his partner to sit up and putting his arms about him, pulled him against his chest. "Okay now, no going to sleep in case of a concussion. Just rest and conserve your strength."

"All right, Hutch," Starsky replied meekly.

Hutch grinned. Starsky meek? It was a contradiction in terms. Still after all the stress it felt good to hold his buddy safe in his arms.

"This is cosy," Starsky murmured.

"You complaining?" Hutch asked.

"No way!" Starsky replied, looking up at him.

They exchanged smiles and both of them relaxed for the first time in more than ten hours.

ooo

Starsky settled back against the cushions and watched as Hutch and Helen brought his dinner over. He was enjoying the fussing and aimed to soak in it while he could for it wouldn't last. With those two in his life he was a very lucky man. _I love them both so much._ He curbed the thought for getting soapy like this was too embarrassing.

"Okay tiger," Hutch said. "Chicken soup from Mark's deli. Not from Aunt Rosie, you'll be glad to know."

"Now eat up like a good boy," Helen said, sitting beside him on the couch whilst Hutch took a chair.

Starsky smiled. "I'm **never** a good boy."

"Don't I know it," she smirked

"I'm good in the sack though, ain't I, Helen?"

Hutch grimaced. "I don't need to know the details of your sex life, Starsky."

Starsky peered up at him over his soup filled spoon and grinned. "Jealous, Hutch?"

"Yeah of this lovely lady in your life." Hutch grinned over at Helen. "Sure you don't want to leave him for me?"

"Oh, I could never do that, Hutch," she replied. "I prefer men with dark, curly hair."

Contentment filling him, Starsky enjoyed his soup while the two of them discussed the merits of brunets over blonds. He would be able to return to work next week and there would be no more trouble from Morton, who had been refused bail, and was now in prison awaiting trial. Also, Tony Vincente was recovering from his injuries and on hearing about Starsky's ordeal had changed his mind about testifying.

Bad cops were a cancer in the force and Starsky was glad that Morton had been removed. There were more like him but the majority were good cops who served and protected the citizens of Bay City.

Starsky thought about the good cop/bad cop routine they used. He and Hutch were good cops, maybe the best team in the city and yet still found it necessary to use these methods to achieve results. It was a game they played with their suspects unlike the Mortons on the force who used it as a power trip.

Aware of being studied, he looked up to meet Hutch's eyes. They exchanged a smile and a silent message. Hutch understood what he was thinking and that was one of the most amazing things about their partnership.

Content with his life, Starsky placed the soup bowl down, reached over and kissed Helen full on the lips.

Hutch groaned. "Do I need to put up with this!"

Starsky moved back from Helen and raised a finger at Hutch. "Don't worry, Blondie. You're next."

Much to Starsky's amusement, Hutch flushed and jumped to his feet then backed away. "I love you Starsky but no way! I don't go for brunets with chest hair."

With a grin, Starsky turned to Helen and pulled her against his shoulder. "You heard him. He loves me," he said, overdoing the dramatics. "He loves me!" At one time even jokingly Hutch would never had said that. It was a measure of the strength of their relationship that he could do so now. Yes. Life was good.

The end.


End file.
